I Seriously Need Help

Two months ago, I was living life. Apparently, I don’t have one right now.

Faster than the speed of light (lol not really), I just started spending lots of time in front of my laptop, talking to people who, perhaps, has gotten a hang of reality and decided to seek refuge in the virtual world. Not that I have that much of a problem in real life, or maybe I do. I seriously need help, or self-help for that matter. 

The funny thing is, I feel like I’m experiencing a major setback when I’ve never planned anything in the first place, and it was my choice to become this huge geek that I am right now. I’m a writer working 3 hours a day at any given time, and that’s about it. Eventually, one of my friends asked me to get out of MY VILLAGE and visit CIVILIZATION. The fact that I’m such a no-life loser was implied, I mean come on. Sometimes, it takes other people to tell you  what you have to hear for you to realize it, even though the idea already exists in you. I hope I’m making sense.  

So tomorrow, I’m a getting out of my comfort zone, meet my friends and explore the world that I have come to know.

Sweet Bygones

I miss the good old days when I seem to be dearer to everyone and everything.

Looking back to the carefree life of cookies and crayons and child’s play, I love how simple things meant the world to me. My mommie’s hugs and kisses and the way she brushed my hair made my days. I remember my 10^th b-day. She bought me a new dress that I liked so much for two years ---and a pink cake. I’ve always loved fancy cakes but I never really had a pretty one till then. If I’m going to base it on a happiness scale, it was my happiest b-day ever. I was a child and undemanding things made me happy.

I remember our old old acacia tree. It was huge and it never ran out of leaves to shed off. The calming swish as I walk through inches of leaves seems to echo endlessly. I used to spend incredibly long hours sitting in the doorway to catch sight of falling leaves. They flutter like danseuse swaying in the tune of the most beautiful melody and I can feel every ounce of air breathe more life into me. I never really appreciated it before but I miss the scent of dried leaves as I roll in the ground with my childhood friends.

Our neighbors used to call me a witty and charming little girl. I didn’t get it but I smiled and appreciated it anyway. And for some odd reasons, I never considered myself a child. I always fail to see the logic when I’m acquitted of something I’ve done wrong due to age reasons. My juvenile mind refused to admit I was immature. Moreover, I’ve always wanted younger kids to look up to me so I kept wishing I’d instantly leap to 4^th grade. I have this notion that if you get past 3^rd grade, then you’re an adult. Ain’t I a cool kid?

It’s funny how I got into fights with some boys my age and they end up crying because I was a really tough opponent. Then we all smile to each other the following day like nothing happened. I love how easy children shake off disputes with small talks over candies and junk food.

Then there was an old atis tree too. We used to climb on it to get to the roof where we wave at passersby. But what do you expect? Of course they told us to come down. Then there was this snotty scaredy kid whose father saw him with us on the roof. The father seemed to have hated us really badly, not only because we were a bad influence to his son, but we also constantly made the little boy cry as we call him by his father’s name. Yes, we kinda bullied him. And we all loved it when it rains. It didn’t really make our games a lot different other than the fact that we were prone to accident.

There were many things I didn’t understand--- but I didn’t ache over them. I miss the old me. I miss being a child. But the old acacia tree is gone, my friends have led different lives and I’ve grown up for better things in life. My childhood might be a memory but will forever remain dear to my heart.  

An Epicly Selfish Introduction

Hi. I have a lot of impressively frightening ideas in mind that I believe I should put into writing. And what not?

I’m a writer. There’s something about beautifully crafted words that suspend me somewhere surreal and keeps me there for a long time. Reading a picturesque depiction of something over and over again gives me nostalgia, sometimes too sweet that I never want to go back to the real world. I want to confine myself in a circle outside my consciousness. I want to keep myself entertained.

Love makes the world go round. I tend to love many things because I'm awesome like that. I open my heart to the world, to new ideas, to get to know people and I love with all my heart. Sometimes, you just have to love the things that make you happy without expecting anything back. You’ll find yourself surprisingly contented about it in the end.

I refrain myself from hate and negative energies of any kind. I simply don’t want to spend the times I could be happy mad or worrying about something. However, I am human; I get mad, I yell, I snap at people and I can’t help it. Nobody’s perfect and I’m not trying to be. In fact, I believe that beauty lies in things that are imperfect. There is nothing to attain in perfection and that would be drone

As a conversationalist, I try to respond to issues as sensibly as possible, but please do take that in a case to case basis. I don’t want to make it sound as if I’m the most rational person you’ll ever engage into a conversation with. I’m a witty chatterbox and even though I don’t make a lot of sense sometimes, I take serious matters seriously. Also, I have a different approach on things so my advices are not always very effective for others. What normally hurts other people doesn’t hurt me and what normally doesn’t bug them annoys the living hell out of me. I can’t explain my intricacies so I’ll just say take me for who I am and let’s keep it that way.

As to religion, I don’t shove what I believe into other people’s throat. I specifically dislike organizations and entities who claim that their religion is the only way to salvation. Tell me about your God and I’ll tell you about mine but let’s respect each other’s differences. You won’t be saved because your God is Jesus Christ or Allah or Jehovah but because you chose to live in such a way that whoever or whatever the Absolute One may be, you have so dearly love and respect what he has created; the diversification and complexities that though difficult for you to understand, has treated it with regard and deference.   

Racism is morally just if you’re out of your mind. There is no such thing as superior race. Though in a certain facet, a race is superior to the other, the superiority is even-handed by a defect or frailty in other aspects. For the love of God, don’t bullshit me with white supremacy and slavery. The only way to rationally divide the world and claim that one division is superior to the other is when you split them into who are the idiots and who are not. Some members of the idiotic line are the racists, supremacists, sexists and radical bigoted religious pig-heads. If you have these tendencies, trust me, you’re an idiot.

I can rattle endlessly about many things but my spider senses are telling me that I shouldn’t. Oh, and I love hugs. I’m not a whore. I was simply influenced by this person who, for most parts, means the world to me. Ciao!